


Dead Walls

by darlingbeom



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Heavy Angst, Huening Kai-Centric, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light Masochism, M/M, Manipulation, Marking, Molestation, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29484699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingbeom/pseuds/darlingbeom
Summary: The man knew everything about him, every perceived flaw, every vulnerability and he knew where to put the pressure... used, manipulated and knawed down to anxious, cold bones.—Hueningkai revisits an old home full of memories.
Relationships: Choi Yeonjun/Huening Kai
Kudos: 15





	Dead Walls

**Author's Note:**

> !! WARNING !! ⚠️⚠️⚠️
> 
> This fic involves sexualisation of TXT members, if you are uncomfortable with this please do not read. Please note this is FICTION, this does not depict there real life personalities/images and is a STORY. Any hate comments will be deleted so just don't bother, move on and read something to your interest.

The dead trees watched him, breathing out uneasiness onto the empty street. His face flushed. Glass lay outside the broken window and he looked around the house. He noticed the darkness as he stepped in, small rays of light shining in the blue and black room. The pretty colours of bruised skin. The house was musty and carried a heavy atmosphere that had grown familiar to him, his chest felt tight. The boy took off his coat and hung it on the old chair, one of only a few pieces of furniture in the house. It never had much anyway. He ran his fingers along the table’s length, acknowledging the possibility of splinters from the knife marks indented in the wood. Two things had caught his attention: the red mug with a chip on its side, and the painting that hung on the living room wall. 

_ “Sure Hueningie, I’ll hang it here.” The boy beamed at the words. The large painting was a swirl of greys and dull colours. A red streak stood in the painting as if blood had dripped down. The work looked distressed with the outline of a fragmented hawk, piercing eyes stared back. He wondered what he felt when looking at it. Inferiority, untamed. The bird angled down, swooping from the sky to what it desired so hungrily. The rough marks of black looked shifted and unaware, uncertain. _

_ “A secret between the two of us,” the man had smiled sweetly. The younger was swept into a hug that was a little too tight. The affection received before he left was warm, a spell that would punish him for a long time.  _

He grabbed a black pen from his bag and stepped closer to the wall of the painting. He touched the textured surface and closed his eyes, lifting the marker to the wall. **_‘I couldn’t resist it anyway. Even now I can’t escape. You were too sweet.’_** Hueningkai missed him. With stolen looks, he saw attention, love, at most. He didn’t care what happened, he felt loved and that was all that mattered. Maybe that’s different now.

**_‘I couldn’t glorify anyone but you and I knew, you knew.’_** The second time he came back to the house, he came with the intention to find answers. The kitchen had little inside, he wasn’t surprised, the house hadn’t been touched in years. The water still ran from the tap, and various bottles of liquor filled the cupboard shelves. The sound of glass in his ears turned his body quickly, his eyes shook with weary confusion. On the dining chair was the older man, with scruffy hair and a frowned face. His body pulsing with visible veins. “Come here,” he said with a hoarse throat.

“Why?” Hueningkai asked. He shook his head, not bothered by his nervous answer. He poured the whisky into the red mug, overflowing from the large chip in its side, but he stayed unbothered. Hueningkai stood back and watched the liquid drip to the floor. It was too quiet, the ticking of a clock played in his mind, like a raced heartbeat with a needle to its vein. He remained silent. The man lifted the mug to him, offering a drink. He shook her head, even his vision pushed his limits, yet it was not far from reality. It would not be the first time he asked if he wanted alcohol... “You’re not real.” The boy grabbed his bag and left in a hurry. Flowing tears cleansed his red cheeks. The droplets forgot their way as the path was swept from beneath them. His vision blurred, and the man was gone. Rain began to hammer down on his shoulders. One could say rain is like sadness. Once it touched the fabric of his clothes, it remained there. Cold, unforgiving. It clung to his skin and reminded him it was there. 

The man  knew everything about him, every perceived flaw, every vulnerability and he knew where to put the pressure. The times he felt pain, when he felt most lonely; the man kept him submissive and fearful enough to ‘love’ him. Which was dangerous, cracking on thin ice. When he thinks about back to then, now having people who love him righteously. He was used, manipulated and knawed down to anxious, cold bones.

The next time arriving at the burdened house, the sun shone brightly, with a fierce pain of heat. Hueningkai walked in, routine forming. He hung his coat on the chair and looked around, eyes shifting along the corridor. He walked by it, arm dragging along when he winced. A wound opened. The scar on his arm remained normal, yet his insides bled with unforgotten memories...

_ “ Let me help you,” he grabbed him.  _

_ “You’ve been drinking...” Hueningkai replied. When the man drank, he turned into a different person. Someone Hueningkai could actually fear. Yet, the prey remained calm in his steps.  _

_ “What does that have to do with it?” His red mug swung side to side, liquid sloshing in the cup. He didn’t listen and that angered the man. He grabbed his arm with substantial force, sliding it across the twisted nails on the wall. The small boy screamed. He dropped Hueningkai’s arm limp and he slid to the floor. His vision became blurry with wounded tears. ‘What did he do at that moment?’ When he looked up, the figure had already walked down the hallway. He would come around when he wasn’t intoxicated... _

Small moments like these, he realised, fueled a desire to see the truth behind everything.  **‘** **_Tell me if this pain isn’t real. What was I supposed to do back then_ ** **_when it was just us?_ ** **_I had no courage. Why did you do all that to me? Did you really love me?’_ ** Every embrace he gave, he took a part of him away. Every time he touched him, he touched a breaking soul. He was the one. The one who was his pain, and his relief, his attention, his loneliness. It was ten years ago when he couldn’t afford to stay a moment away from him, Hueningkai devoted all his time to him because the only time worth giving was when he felt good about himself. The man’s name was constantly on his breath, perhaps it was time to let out a long sigh. 

**_‘Every time, I put a mask on and would go to see you. As time passes now it's become more ruined.’_ ** He walked past the chair, leaving his coat tucked around his body. The boy felt cold chills run down his spine. The room was plain and white. No colour in the room except the black bed sheets.  His single bed in the spare room was still there, dirty sheeting laying on top. His single bed in the spare room. His bed. Treated like a piece of raw meat, the elder was simply there to help the rage that he failed to process without intoxicating himself. Now Hueningkai looked at the dark, ridden, messy sheets and sees the dark figure. A realisation. When he stared at the very thing he felt safe in, he saw his beasted face, that was tamed with soft eyes. 

_ “My pretty Hueningie… So pretty. How can I show you how beautiful you are? Your skin is soft.” The blonde massaged his thighs, kissing down his neck with light touches. “You’re so good for me, you know I would never hurt you, right?” He looked up with dear eyes, clinging to the man on top.  _

_ “Please…” he whimpered lightly, tears trickling down his cheeks. Hands gripped his waist and he moaned at the harsh bruising engraved in his skin. He liked this, he made the elder /want/ him. He was stripped of his clothing slowly, piece by piece peeled perfectly from his body. With each touch came heavy sighs, delighted in the atmosphere around them. Intoxicated.  _

_ “Hyung will be so good to you… Wants to make you feel special.” He entered the boy with a low groan, feeling the tight rim enveloping his dick. Sobs and cries echoed around him, squeezed together on a singular bed. He gave Hueningkai no room for preparation, knowing the smaller got off on the pained stretching of his hole, wet squelches filling their ears. His pace quickened, holding the boy’s legs up as he used him like a doll with rough movements along the bed.  _

_ Hueningkai came quickly, confused of his surroundings with a puddle of white liquid on his stomach. He laid there tired, body moving up and down as the man used him as he pleased. He had gotten used to the feeling of overstimulation, hole raw red from friction and harsh movements. At least this time, he didn’t say no.  _

**_‘_ ** **_I hated those moments, but you concealed my negative thoughts. You aren't here to do that now.’_ ** __ Those flowed in his nightmares, now they seeped out from the painting and began to drip onto the floor. The shout of no’s and please stops rung clearly in his head, mixing with please of pleasure and need.  **‘** **_You didn’t choose me to love and adore me, I was a side effect of your malicious drug.’_ ** There were moments Hueningkai walked down the street and didn’t look twice at the broken house, sometimes he still went in. Tears escaped his eyes when the recollection of pushed out thoughts came to mind, it hurt. It was a lingering pain, sticking to his skin. His feet carried him to the gaze of the painting on the wall. From a greater perspective, he finally understood the pain behind it, now covered in black writing. He finally understood the pain.

**_‘You were a tempter; he was a relationship to an evil world with which I no longer wanted to have anything to do.’_** Hueningkai stood back. He couldn’t change what happened to him but he felt at ease with himself. Streaks of light grey paint rolled along the wall. Each stroke he felt lighter. He was gone, and so were the messages he left. The wall wasn’t perfected, it was grey and scratched. It couldn’t be a new slate but it could be a beginning of acceptance.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! I put a lot into this writing, venting and expressing myself. The relationship between the two is quite complicated, I left the back story vague and mysterious through the memories, a lot of things I don’t even know myself. It’s nice to write for me. 
> 
> Someone suggested a taegyu, so i’ll be working on that soon!!
> 
> You can leave feedback in the comments or on my curious cat.  
> CC: beomsfw  
> TWT: beompiss


End file.
